


A Little Ruptured Appendix Never Killed Anyone!

by kon_anima



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Inaccuracies, Swearing bc Jason, and i’m so rusty rip, dick u sweet stupid self-neglecting summer child, i am not a doctor nor do i qualify as smart in any way, no beta we die like dicks organs, that sounds so threatening out of context, tim the spleen stealer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:42:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29815509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kon_anima/pseuds/kon_anima
Summary: ...Oh, wait. Yeah, it did.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 107





	A Little Ruptured Appendix Never Killed Anyone!

**Author's Note:**

> me: *has 75 other fics i need to finish*  
> me: no❤️ *just writes stupid oneshots*

The subtle groan that followed the sound of rustling, indicating movement, is what catches Bruce’s, otherwise distracted, attention.

“Nightwing.”

It takes a second, but Dick’s cheery voice fills the comms. “Wassup, B-man?”

“Have you been injured?”

“...Nooo?” Dick says, thoroughly confused. “We haven’t even found any big baddies to fight yet. A few muggings, but they surrendered as soon as they saw Hood.”

As Dick snickers at the memory, Jason’s comm clicks to life. “Smart fuckin’ choice.”

“Hood—“ Bruce begins to warn.

“Jesus, old man, I get it. _Language_.” Despite not being able to see it, it’s clear that Jason is rolling his eyes. “Excuse the fuck outta me.”

Bruce sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose on top of his cowl.

A silence fills the comms for a few moments, and during that time, Bruce feels himself begin to grow weary — or, at least, he finally has a chance to acknowledge it. It had been a long night, and that was saying a lot, considering it was only one in the morning. Dick was right, it seemed as though any criminal and villain that was a real threat had decided to take the night off, leading to an incredibly uneventful and, frankly, boring night. Bruce is about to tell them all that they’ll head home after two, when Tim’s voice filters through his earpiece.

“Hey, B?”

“What is it, Red?”

“Me and ‘Wing... We don’t share the same blood type, right?”

That springs Bruce back to life. Instantly, he thinks the worst.

“Nightwing is O-, making him a universal donor. Why? What’s going on?”

“Nothing, nothing!” Tim rushes to reassure, and Bruce immediately feels his heart beat back to life again. “Just making sure you didn’t harvest his spleen to give to me.”

“He wouldn’t do that!” Dick gasps. Then, after a moment, he adds. “...You wouldn’t do that, right?”

Bruce just grunts.

“Nightwing, if you’re injured, you need to tell us so we can get you proper medical attention.”

“I’m not injured!” Dick’s end of the conversation is interrupted with more rustling. Unbeknownst to the others, he’s adjusting his position to try and ease the sudden pain that has sprung in his side.

“Just pulled a muscle or somethin’. No biggie.”

* * *

When they arrive back to the cave after an abhorrently yawn-inducing night, Dick is clutching his side as if trying to smother the searing pain that lives there. He continues to feign nonchalance, huffing a breath as he removes his domino mask with his free hand. “So, nothing to report, really. Put a few numbnuts in an overnight stay at the big house, made a few pee their pants, and—“

“Go sit down in the med-bay.” Bruce interrupts him as he removes his cowl.

“...Why?”

“Alfred will look you over and determine what’s causing the pain.”

If Dick could roll his eyes any farther back, he would.

“I told you! It’s a pulled muscle! Or it’s something I ate, I dunno! But it’s nothing serious!”

Bruce turns to his eldest son, glaring.

“ _Dick_.”

Dick stops for a moment, shoulders twitching just slightly as if he’s trying to fight the urge to obey that had been embedded in him for most of his young life. Then, wordlessly, he glares back.

Tim is huddled up in the computer chair with a mug of coffee, provided by Alfred, in his hands, staring between the two of them as if he’s watching a show. Jason is leaning on the computer next to him, holding a hand over his mouth to suppress a laugh. Finally, the battle of wills seems to disperse, much to Bruce’s displeasure, as Dick waves a hand and, not without a small limp, begins to make his way upstairs.

“I’m gonna crash here for tonight.” He doesn’t stop his trek as he throws a glance over his shoulder to his second youngest brother. “Don’t harvest my spleen in my sleep.”

Jason’s loud laugh echoes off of the walls as Tim frowns.

“I need it more than you do!”

* * *

At around four in the morning, Bruce is awoken by a very frantic Tim Drake, practically tugging him out of bed by his arm and all but screeching about something going on. He only catches every other word — _Dick, pain, hospital, **now**._

Bruce’s mind is reeling all the way to Dick’s old room, where the only light is the one coming from the bathroom. Bruce nearly runs Tim over as he sprints to the light.

There, he sees Jason, eyes wide, staring down at Dick, who is huddled in a corner on the cool tile. His cheeks are red, stained with tears, and the lines above his brow are prominent even under his sweat-soaked bangs. He seemed out of it, not even acknowledging Bruce’s presence.

Bruce bends down, both determined to kill whatever was causing his son this much pain, and determined to keep himself calm, as both Jason and Tim looked two seconds away from downright losing it.

“Dick?” Bruce puts a hand on Dick’s head, and almost snatches it away at the fever burning his fingertips. At his name, and the recognization of the voice, Dick opens his eyes blearily, causing more tears to spill.

“I’m fine! I’m—“

Then, Dick lets out an ear-piercing scream.

The sound is nauseating, bone-rattling. Jason instantly jumps back, and Tim clamps a hand over his mouth in shock. Dick’s arms are wrapped tightly around his midsection. He looks up once more, eyes unfocused. 

“Okay, ow. That was just. Rude.” He mutters, looking unsteady.

Before Bruce can tell him he’s going to the emergency room, no negotiating, Dick is passed out on the side of the tub.

* * *

“—‘pulled a muscle’. Wow.”

Dick slowly crawls his way back to consciousness. Around him are several figures, bright lights, and the sound of a monitor beeping. His throat is dry, and his body feels heavier than ever, even more than after eating three buckets of ice cream in one sitting.

“Wha’ happ’nd?” He asks, cringing at how rough his own voice sounds. His eyes begin to adjust, and he takes a better look around.

He’s in a hospital room, in a hospital bed. Jason is slumped in a chair next to the bed, Tim is sitting on the edge of the bed, looking down at him with a mixture of concern and annoyance, and Bruce, with a similar expression, is standing at the foot of the bed.

“Your appendix decided to self-destruct. In your body.” Tim speaks up first.

“Which could’ve been prevented if you had told us earlier.” Bruce joins in.

“And wouldn’t have required emergency surgery to save your fuckin’ life.” Jason.

Now, Dick looks as if he’s years younger than he is, eyes downcast in shame and bottom lip jutted out in a pout. “Thought it was just a stomach ache...”

There’s an air of tension that surrounds them for several minutes, but it’s broken by, of course, Jason.

“The appendix doesn’t even do shit for your body. It’s literally just there to be huge dick.” Jason grins, eyeing Dick and looking pleased with himself. “Pun intended.”

Tim plants his face in his palm. “Har, har. Comedic genius.”

Dick’s about to start sprinting out apologies for making them worry, for not saying something before it was an emergency, when he hears a hacking cough from the doorway.

“Dami?” Dick sits up a bit to confirm. All heads turn to the youngest, sluggishly entering the room. “Why are you here? You’re sick.”

The kid looks miserable, huddled up in a blanket with a red nose and bloodshot eyes. Bruce looks a bit shocked, meaning Damian had gotten here, somehow, of his own accord. He glares, though weakly.

“I’m making sure you don’t die. Idiot.”

Dick can’t help the small smile that brings to his lips. “Hurtful. Words can kill, too, Lil D.”

“Good.” As if it’s an obvious course of action, Damian plops himself directly in Jason’s lap, curling up like a tired kitten and yet, still looking somewhat menacing. Jason scrunches his nose. “Now, everyone be quiet, or I will bite.”

Despite the roll of his eyes, Jason still proceeds to speak in a hushed tone.

“So,” He all but whispers, leaning just slightly closer to Dick. “You had a dead organ inside you, huh?”

“I...” Dick blinks. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Try having all of them dead inside of you for six months.”

A collective groan mixed with a loud cackle from Jason fills the hospital room, making a very unhappy Damian stir from his slumber.

**Author's Note:**

> literally the appendix does N O T H I N G for ur body and it still has the audacity?? to go kaboom at random??


End file.
